But then, is there cowardice in the acknowledgment of fear? Is there cowardice in being glad that you lived?

The silence was always the greates temptation.

She gave 'The Dream Carrier' to Max as if words alone could nourish him.

… it was raining on Himmel Street when the world ended for Liesel Meminger. The sky was dripping. Like a tap that a child has tried its hardest to turn off but hasn’t quite managed.

The commitment had disappeared, and although he still watched the imagined glory of stealing, she could see now he was not believing. He was trying to believe it, and that’s never a good sign.

The night is alive with stars, and when I lie down and look up, I get lost up there. I feel like I’m falling, but upward, into the abyss of sky above me.

It's not the place, I think. It's the people. We'd have all been the same anywhere else.